


Aftermath

by rhoen



Series: Let Me Count the Ways [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Injury, M/M, Morning After, Pain, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 23:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11368176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/rhoen
Summary: Following Aoba out to the bar last night and going home with Genma was a mistake, and when he wakes up alone Raidou knows he'll eventually have to pay for it, and more.





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> An on-time update in which you discover that I'm not _actually_ a writer, I just try to muddle through and make as little mess as possible. I apologise in advance for the deterioration in quality.
> 
> Just so you guys know, my life is a bit of a fucking mess right now, and I might not be able to update for the next two weekends. I will try my best, but if you don't see anything from me for a little while please know I'm really sorry, I hope you'll forgive my absence.
> 
> As always, thank you to my wonderful beta Kali, and RIP my phone screen which now has image burn-in. Take breaks if working in google docs on your phone, guys D:

When he woke up, Genma was gone. Raidou didn’t need to open his eyes to know that. He could sense the absence even before he fully woke, and, although he hadn’t really expected Genma to stay, it still hurt when he rolled over from the unfamiliar side of the bed and reached out, confirming that the space beside him was completely empty. The covers where Genma had lain were cool to the touch and slightly wrinkled, disturbed by the temporary presence of a warm body long gone, and Raidou’s fingers curled weakly around the creases, his eyes closed against the lonely sight he knew would greet him.

He wasn’t ready to wake up. His body was a catalogue of aches and pains, but none so acute as the discomfort lodged in his chest, shifting with each breath and reminding him that last night was over. Following Aoba out to the bar had been a mistake. He knew it then, when he’d allowed the dangerous, destructive part of himself that yearned to see Genma override his better judgement, and he knew it now. It didn’t matter how wonderful last night might have been in the end, or even how terrible; he couldn’t allow it to happen again. What he felt for Genma was dangerous, and it had been reckless and selfish to allow himself to indulge in it. He was already paying for the lapse in judgement, and even as his heart ached for Genma, desperately longing for him to be there when he opened his eyes, it was breaking.

Sighing in an attempt to shift the heaviness settling on his chest, Raidou finally opened his eyes, knowing he’d have to face the day eventually. He gave a dry huff when he saw what was next to him, turning away and closing his eyes again. He hadn’t expected to find last night’s clothes folded into a neat little pile, as if waiting for him, and couldn’t decide what to make of the discovery. He quickly decided he wasn’t really ready to think about it, or to imagine Genma silently moving around the room and gathering his things while he slept, although he supposed that one small mercy was that Genma hadn’t left in a complete rush.

He’d still left, though, and Raidou had to face the day alone. It took more effort than it ought to for him to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and sit up, the unfamiliar side of the bed leaving him a little disorientated and two day old bruise on his hip and thigh more painful than he remembered it being last night. Sheer habit forced him to stifle the natural pain response, and he stared down at the deep red, mottled bruise marring his skin, unable to help wondering what Genma had thought of it. Like all the other marks littering his skin it wasn’t particularly pretty, but at least it wouldn’t scar.

With a tired sweep of his hand through tousled hair, Raidou stood, favouring his uninjured side, and made his way through to the bathroom without looking back at the bed. His thoughts turned away from himself and to Genma, and he remembered all the marks and scars littering the other man’s body that his fingers had traced and lips had longed to caress. Scars were a part of life for a shinobi, and although he would never have thought to describe them as particularly attractive before, there was something about the marks on Genma’s body that captivated Raidou. Genma didn’t flaunt them, but he moved with such grace and confidence it was hard to think of them as blemishes or imperfections. Rather than subtracting from his beauty they added to it, complementing his attractive physique and serving as testament to all he’d endured.

Raidou couldn’t help remembering the offer Genma had made, giving Raidou the chance to leave his own mark on that incredible skin. His hand trembled as he turned the shower on, his mind faltering as he realised that, if he’d taken advantage of the opportunity given to him, Genma would be somewhere out there now, a carefully placed bruise adorning his skin. He wouldn’t fool himself and pretend that Genma would care for the mark or remember how he got it with much affection, but the hopeless dream still stirred a sense of longing that Raidou tried to dispel by ducking under the still warming water. He reminded himself it wouldn’t mean anything to Genma anyway; he’d hide it beneath the collar of his top, waiting for it to fade, and no one would ever know it had been there. It certainly wouldn’t be like the marks Genma had left on him, one of which had been so vivid he hadn’t needed to touch it to feel it there. For days afterwards, in the privacy of his home and long after he’d shucked his uniform off for the day, Raidou had brought his fingers up to touch and press against the bruises, remembering the feeling of Genma’s mouth against his neck. The marks may have faded but the memory of it remained.

A lot of memories remained. Reaching for the shampoo and finding it almost empty, Raidou knew that what he needed was time. Everything that happened between them over the last month was still too vivid in his mind, too real and immediate. It ought to feel like a dream, but Raidou could recall every touch and caress in startling detail, so much so that was a distraction. His cock twitched in interest as he remembered just how incredible Genma’s talented mouth had felt wrapped around him, and if last time it had been difficult to put it from his mind, this time it was going to be almost impossible. Sex, in Raidou’s experience, wasn’t that incredible; it had never been as visceral or intense as it had been with Genma. They hadn’t even had penetrative sex, which, looking back on it, Raidou was grateful for. There would be no way to recover from that, or to piece himself back together again when Genma left. Already it was almost unbearable to have been nothing more than a casual encounter when the other man meant so much to him; too much. They were friends first and foremost, and Raidou knew it had to go back to being just that.

The rest of his shower was a utilitarian affair. His side hurt too much to allow his mind to dwell on much else, and rather than ease the stiffness, the hot water seemed to worsen it. He washed the bruised skin with the lightest of touches, finding that anything firmer was enough to make him shudder with pain, and after stepping out of the shower he managed to rub salve onto it, gritting his teeth against the discomfort as he did. The salve afforded him some relief, at least, and Raidou made his way back into the bedroom, scrubbing his hair dry as he went.

The plan half forming in his mind as to what to do with the rest of his day was forgotten when he pulled the towel from his head and saw the folded pile of clothes again. He hadn’t noticed while lying on his side, but now that he was standing he could see that Genma had left his senbon lying atop the clothes, carefully positioned in the middle of the fabric. The placing couldn’t be anything other than deliberate, and Raidou stared at the slender piece of metal that glinted in the morning light, rendered immobile as he tried to guess what it meant. It seemed almost… affectionate. The notion was completely ridiculous, and the rational part of his mind immediately urged him to dismiss it, and yet his heart refused to slow as he approached the bed. He hesitated before reaching out, breathing shallow as he wondered why Genma had chosen to do it – a parting gift, perhaps, or a promise. It made the impersonal departure a little softer in Raidou’s mind, and although he couldn’t help wondering if Genma did this with the other lovers he took, part of him wanted to believe it meant he might come back.

The senbon rung softly against the wood as Raidou placed it on top of the bedside table, the thin needle rolling towards the framed photograph of Raidou’s old genin team and settling there as if it belonged. Raidou stared at the commonplace, almost innocuous weapon, a myriad of thoughts and feelings coursing through him as he realised just how badly he wanted it to belong there; how much he longed for Genma to be an integral part of his life.

Wanting and needing were separate things, though. Raidou recognised that. There was no real reason to hope or push for something more when all Genma could give him was casual sex at best, just the same as there was no real reason to stand there staring at the senbon while thinking about what would never be. There were chores that needed to be done, and other, more practical things that required his attention.

Raidou dressed without much thought, wincing when he pulled his uniform on and the fabric grazed against his injury, and then gathered the clothes from both the mission and last night. Usually he wouldn’t dream of leaving the laundry so long after returning, but last night had been an exception to the norm. Having so much to sort through gave him something to do, at least, and after putting the first load into the machine he turned to the cupboards, cataloguing what he already knew wasn’t there. The market wasn’t his favourite place to shop, but he needed the sense of normalcy it would provide, and to lose himself in the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Something within him was starting to feel off again, as if he was living inside a strange bubble, and although Genma had helped tether him for a while the sense of peculiarity was returning. He felt oddly detached from the world around him, as if he was starting to move in a separate dimension, and didn’t like the sensation.

Grabbing his spare flak jacket and tying his hitai-ate into place, Raidou tried to push the strange feeling and the pain aside, and made his way outside.

 

The crowd, it turned out, was worse than normal. There might not have been more people around, but everyone seemed to bump and jostle him more than usual, and it took an uncomfortable amount of sidestepping and wincing for Raidou to avoid people crashing into his side. One old woman with a carrier bag laden with hard produce managed to hit the bruise square on, and left him fighting for breath as pain tore through him. He didn’t appreciate the test of self-control, and after that paid far more attention to those around him.

The drug store was a little easier to navigate, its narrow aisles clear of all but one other shinobi and two youths hovering by the sexual health products. Raidou glanced over at them, Genma’s frustration clear in his memory, and then turned away to get what he’d come for. He selected more healing salve and then considered the shampoo stocked in the far corner. He’d always grabbed the same kind but now, he hesitated. For some reason, he felt like he needed a change. After another moment of deliberating, he finally picked a bottle from the shelf, leaving his usual choice untouched.

It was a relief to get home. He unpacked the food, hung up the laundry, cleaned down the bathroom, put the shampoo and salve where they been belonged, and then stood looking out the kitchen window as he ate a protein bar and downed some water. The rest of the day lay open and unplanned before him, and as he watched the clouds crossing the sky he considered what to do with it.

The best use of his time, he decided, was to go to the administration block and put his name down for training, and then return home for lunch and to finish the laundry. A small, niggling voice reminded him that he’d have to face the bedroom too, and at the very least make the bed, but he wasn’t ready to think about how much he didn’t want to do that, as if smoothing out the creases on the sheet would erase Genma’s presence. The notion was stupid; the man had already gone.

Alone, and with no reason to refrain from it, Raidou gave a sigh. He ignored the twinge in his leg when he moved, placing the empty glass by the sink: something to come home to.

 

The pain settled into a steady, background sensation, and as he made his way up the stairs and along the corridor to where the training schedules were kept, Raidou found it easy to ignore. He scanned the timetables pinned to the board for an opening and, seeing a blank space next to Uzuki Yuugao’s name for kenjutsu training that afternoon, made his mark. It gave him two hours to eat something and make his way out to training ground 4, which was more than enough time.

His mind now turning towards lunch, it took Raidou a moment to register the voices approaching when he reached the top of the stairs that would lead him back out onto the street. His body froze before he realised why, and when his mind caught up to the fact he felt a flutter of nervousness ripple through him.

“—surprised you managed at all.”

He hadn’t factored in the chance of running into Genma, which was stupid, really. Genma was on duty.

“I didn't think Raidou would agree to come. He seemed almost as exhausted as Tokuma.”

The other voice was clearly Aoba’s, and although the two were at the bottom of the long staircase, their voices carried clearly.

“Yeah, he seemed pretty tired last night. Isn't Tokuma in hospital?”

Raidou knew he should move away, but found himself rooted to the spot.

“Mild chakra exhaustion,” Aoba confirmed.

Loathe to eavesdrop, he intended to go back towards the room he'd come from, but just then he heard Aoba speak again.

“So, I've been meaning to ask -- what's going on between you and Raidou?”

Raidou's heart was in his mouth, blood rushing through his veins so loudly he almost couldn't hear Genma's answer.

“Nothing, man. You know us – we're just friends.”

There was nothing else Genma could say in response to Aoba's question, and Raidou knew that was exactly how it was, but hearing the words from Genma's mouth, in that casual tone, hurt all the same. He didn't want to hear it. His hands tightened into fists, nails digging into his palms, and the realisation as to just how close the other two were getting was only secondary. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat and to take a step forwards, but it was already too late. In that moment Aoba and Genma turned the last corner on the staircase, and from the look on Genma's face as he glanced up and saw Raidou at the top of the stairs it was clear he knew they'd been overheard.

“Well he— Oh, speak of the devil,” Aoba said, catching on to Raidou's presence half a second later. “You look like shit.”

Raidou didn't appreciate the honest appraisal, and frowned. “Thanks, Aoba.”

The two reached the top of the stairs and stopped, Genma looking almost as awkward as Raidou felt as he hovered just behind Aoba. The new senbon between his teeth wavered in the air as it was chewed.

“You do look kinda rough,” Genma agreed. “Did you sleep okay?”

He seemed concerned, but the best Raidou could manage was dismissive shrug. Genma would know the answer to that if he’d stayed. “Well enough.” Playing along with the lie that nothing had happened between them, he settled for a careful truth. “Thank you for keeping me company on the way home.”

“Anytime,” Genma said with apparent ease, the tension in his shoulders further betraying his discomfort. His gaze was far too keen and searching, and Raidou turned away from it, afraid of what Genma might discover.

“What are you doing up here anyway? Shouldn't you be enjoying your time off?” Aoba asked, at least not bringing up Raidou's injury.

“I thought I'd get some training in.”

Aoba's head tilted a fraction in obvious scepticism. “Well take it easy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Raidou echoed, at last finding the strength to move forward. He raised his hand in parting. “I'd best be going. See you later.”

“See you,” Aoba nodded. Genma, however, stayed quiet for a moment.

“See you round, Raidou,” he said softly in parting, his gaze following Raidou's movements as they passed each other. Raidou didn't meet his eyes, but he could feel the attentive, watchful gaze following him even after he made his way past the first twist of the stairs.

By the time he reached the street Raidou realised he was trembling, and it had nothing to do with the physical pain he'd been conscious of nearly every step of the way.

 

Yuugao was twenty minutes early to their training session, and the purple-haired ANBU smiled when she saw Raidou waiting for her.

“I thought I was going to have to train alone again,” she said in greeting. “Long time no see, Raidou.”

“It's been too long,” Raidou agreed, shifting his sheathed black sword from his right to his left hand in readiness. He might not be as good a swordsman as Hayate was, but he could hold his own well enough against Yuugao. “How's ANBU treating you these days?”

Their usual pattern of conversation caused Yuugao to give a dry smirk. “Like a deadly tool.”

Raidou was almost able to ignore the discomfort in his leg as he moved into position and grinned back. “Glad to hear it.”

“The Hokage still got you watching paint dry?”

“It's all us lowly tokubetsu jounin are good for.”

As Raidou drew kokutou from its scabbard Yuugao did the same with her katana. “Watch closely then,” she almost taunted. “You might learn something useful.”

With a grin, Raidou pushed forward to meet her first attack.

 

It quickly became apparent that something was wrong. The pain blossoming beneath the bruise on his leg seemed to worsen with each passing minute, and Raidou found it harder and harder to ignore the pain and concentrate on his opponent. As he pushed chakra to his feet, leaping sideways to avoid a deadly sweep of Yuugao’s blade, the pain flared, white hot tendrils of pain tearing through his body. He stopped, gasping, and struggled to keep his guard up as he looked around for Yuugao, who had disappeared.

She pulled her strike just before their katana met, her brow creased in a frown as she noticed the cause of Raidou's distraction.

“I didn't hit you.”

“No,” Raidou confirmed, gritting his teeth and then deciding that he could stand upright again. He didn't lower his sword. “I guess I pulled a muscle on my last mission. It's tender, that's all.”

Yuugao’s frown didn't ease as she looked at him with a degree of concern. “Want to stop?”

“I'm good,” he dismissed, mentally running through all the ways he could use his obvious injury to his advantage. The pain in his leg abated for a moment, and, although he knew there would be hell to pay later, Raidou didn't want to quit.

Yuugao took his word at face value, and gave a nod before falling back a step in readiness.

Raidou anticipated and dodged her next two moves, feinting and then falling back into position to attack. Just as Yuugao moved in for her next strike, to his weakened side, Raidou launched his counterattack.

This time, the pain was blinding. His whole body was consumed by it, agony radiating out from the bruise and searing through every inch of his being. His mind faltered, and Raidou was barely aware of the fact he'd cried out. He felt himself falling, and instinctively drew on chakra to right himself.

The next flash of pain tearing through him pushed him towards unconsciousness. It was too much for his body to bear, and he didn't fully register the hands that caught him, or the concerned voice calling his name as Yuugao lower him to the ground. His leg felt twisted, the muscle and flesh contorted and eaten away by searing pain, and his chest heaved as he fought to draw breath.

Raidou couldn't think beyond the agony consuming his body. He couldn't make sense of anything around our within him, and he sobbed and felt his throat tear as another unbearable wave of pain coursed through him.

He was too lost in excruciating pain to think. There was no reason to cling to consciousness, so, when the next violent twist and poisonous flare of pain hit him, he let go and sank into nothingness.


End file.
